


pas de deux

by exbex



Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Porn, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24229693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex
Summary: “I have as much of a right to try to secure my house’s future as you do to try to secure your house’s future,” she says. “You don’t get to ask me to back off just because you’re desperate for your little gamble to pay off.”“If I’m desperate for anything, it’s to make sure that you don’t hurt anyone. And that includes yourself.”She stalks over to her vanity and begins to remove the pins from her hair. “I’m not your responsibility. I’ve been taking care of myself for years; I don’t need you to ride in on a white horse.”
Relationships: Olivia Nevrakis/Maxwell Beaumont
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	pas de deux

“Did you do that on purpose?”

Maxwell is waiting outside her bedroom door, sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up.

“Get inside the room before someone sees us,” she snaps, and he slides out of the way.

Once the door is shut behind them, she turns on him, hand on hip and scowl firmly in place. “Well I didn’t accidentally fall into his face.” It’s a partial truth. She had meant to make a clean break from Maxwell once she formally entered the running to be the Prince’s bride. But then yesterday she’d been overconfident, striding up to his little group as they sipped hot chocolate. “I always enjoy my time here with you Olivia.” To anyone else, his expression and cadence would have indicated innocence and diplomacy, but he’d locked eyes with her and she could see he was thinking of all the times he’d taken her from behind and made her watch in the mirror.

And here she was about to let it all go and let her heart dictate the future she was chasing.

Foolishness. Liam hadn’t kissed her back, not really. Oh he’d been perfectly kind and diplomatic, telling her he wasn’t supposed to be kissing his suitors like that, that he needed to be fair, as if he hadn’t snuck off with the American on the opening night of the social season.

She wished he’d have the decency to be honest with her, tell her she didn’t stand a chance. Olivia was proud but not stupid.

“You know what I mean.” Maxwell removes his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of a chair.

“I have as much of a right to try to secure my house’s future as you do to try to secure your house’s future,” she says. “You don’t get to ask me to back off just because you’re desperate for your little gamble to pay off.”

“If I’m desperate for anything, it’s to make sure that you don’t hurt anyone. And that includes yourself.”

She stalks over to her vanity and begins to remove the pins from her hair. “I’m not your responsibility. I’ve been taking care of myself for years; I don’t need you to ride in on a white horse.”

Maxwell strides over to her. As she removes the last pins from her hair, he places one hand on her back. “We can do this with all your clothes on, or we can do this with all your clothes off.”

She could tell him to go to hell. She could politely ask him to leave. She could even ask him to hold her (perish the thought). But she wants the same thing he wants.

“Don’t you dare rip this dress,” she hisses. “Or my lingerie.”

He unzips her dress agonizingly slowly. She lets it fall from her shoulders and he slides it carefully over her hips before he turns his attention to her bra and panties, leaving everything in a pool of fabric at her feet. “Hold out your wrists,” he says.

Maxwell takes his time unknotting his necktie and removing it, wrapping it around her wrists and tying it snugly. He unbuttons his shirt, slowly and deliberately, draping it over the chair that holds his jacket, before adding his trousers and pants to the pile.

“Are you really going to leave your socks on? Between those and your ridiculous tattoo…” she trails off as he smirks and takes her tied wrists, looping them around his neck, putting his own hands in the small of her back and pulling her flush against him. “I don’t want to be distracted by cold feet.”

He takes a step back, and Olivia gasps as he inserts one finger into her, adding another as he feels how wet she already is. He hums softly as he swirls one finger over her clit. 

She makes an attempt at a growl, but it comes out as a whine as he stops every time she feels herself getting close. “What do you want?” she sighs.

“I want…” he pauses, letting the tip of his tongue dart between his lips. “...to fuck you nice and slow, and leave you tied up on the bed with my come all over you.” He quickens the pace of his fingers, and Olivia feels her face flush as she gasps and cries out.

He removes his fingers and picks her up, bridal style, even though she’s as tall as he is, and carries her to the bed, carefully depositing her and removing her tied wrists from around his neck.

She sighs and stretches, leaving her bound wrists above her head.

“Red really is your color,” he murmurs before taking hold of her thighs and pulling her to the edge of the bed. He lines himself up and pushes into her slowly, before setting a pace. “  
Who gets to fuck you, Olivia? Tell me. Say my name.”

“You, Maxwell.” She moans and arches her back.

“Beg for it. Beg me to fill you up with my come.”

Olivia sighs. What use is there in denying it? Whether Maxwell actually wants her, or just gets some pleasure out of dominating her, it’s still more than she has with anyone else. “Please Maxwell. I want to feel you come inside of me.” She sighs again and closes her eyes.

“Open your eyes,” Maxwell says. “I want you to watch me fucking you.”

Olivia acquiesces. It’s easy enough; watching the muscles of his arms, shoulders, and abdomen flex. It should be more difficult to accept how much she’s enjoying the feeling of her hands being bound, the knowledge that she’s entirely at his mercy.

It’s impossible to accept, later, after he’s emptied himself inside of her and cleaned them both up, carefully brushing the hair away from her face, after he’s removed the binds from her wrists and he’s putting his clothes back on, how much she wants to tell him to stay the night with her.

She has to look away from his gaze, because it’s impossible to accept that it’s his eyes she’ll see in her fantasies, no matter what happens.

“What do you want?” she asks.

He laughs without a shred of humor. “To be more than tolerated.” She looks at him then, but he’s not looking at her. He’s gotten out of bed and has put his clothes back on, and he’s staring out the window at the snow-capped mountains.

“Sleep well,” he says as he turns away from the window and walks to the door. He opens it just enough to peer out, then to step out, and closes it softly behind him.

Olivia sighs and lets her hands fall to her sides. Her fingers brush the fabric of the tie he’s left behind.


End file.
